Hermione's boggart
by C.Watherston
Summary: There are very few monster's who warrant the fear we have of them; A series musing upon the form that a boggart would have taken before Hermione Granger.
1. To fear a wolf's lover

**A/N: Of late, I have been reading a lot of Remus Lupin-Sirius Black 'slash' fanfiction. I personally find it a fascinating exploration and true credit to the beauty of Fanfiction. Based on this, I have decided to do a little of my own digging into this fandom. I stress that it is very light 'slash' but could definitely could not be read as plutonic. On that note, I am not bothered as to those of you who find homosexuality affronting. The next chapter will not contain 'slash' material and you are welcome to skip ahead. **

**Regards**

**CW**

Hermione stepped up to the front of the line, chewing her lip, a thin gleam of sweat between her skin and her wand. Behind her, the students clamoured for a good position; after all, who wouldn't want to discover what was the brightest witch of their age truly afraid of?

Professor Remus J. Lupin measured her, leaning casually on the bench. Here was one who was not quite sure what was about to take shape before her, but was nonetheless ready to face it. He'd seen a lot in his life. He'd seen war and he'd seen death and he'd seen life and love. He knew fear like he knew every scar on his rangy body. It took an awful lot to take a man like this by surprise.

However, what took shape before the slightly quivering figure of Hermione Granger shocked him, terrified him, to the point of freezing.

A slouched figure whirled into being; shoulder length, ragged black hair, a gaunt, skeletal face, snarling yellowed teeth and mad grey eyes. In rags, the figure straightened and laughed manically, glaring as the class began to scream as one. Hermione, standing before them all, was struck dumb. For a moment, Remus wondered what in the hell this young Gryffindor girl had conjured, standing quickly to assist, but then the face of a murderer turned to him, sneering with an aged, emaciated shadow of a man he had once known. Remus froze.

_Nononononononononono-_

The boggart, suddenly realising it was feeding off the fear of not one, but a whole class of people, threw back its Sirius-head and laughed. It was a cold, cruel sound that sent a shudder through Remus and all he could do was watch in shocked misery. The boggart stepped closer to Hermione and sneered. It didn't say a word; its posture, its actions, its expression, said everything that it could not voice.

_Filthy little mudblood. I will enjoy killing you. Die! Scared, Muggleborn? Ah, new blood. Fresh meat. You know who I am, you know what I have done, you know what I am capable of. You don't have a chance. Don't bother screaming. _

Hermione seemed to shake herself and raised her trembling wand.

"Ri-ri-rid-"

The boggart leaped at her, snarling, teeth bared like an animal. Somebody, not Hermione, screamed. Remus still did not move; he could not.

This, this, _thing _before him, was nothing but the imagined horrors existing in a frightened girl's mind, he reminded himself. This was not Sirius Black; sexy, flirtatious, laughing, witty, brave, loyal Padfoot. This was not the boy who was his best friend, later and for oh-so-little time, his lover. No, this was a monster with Sirius' face. A figment of a scared girl's imagination.

"Sirius" he said, not realising he'd said it out loud. The class was scrambling about, milling in panic, some of them heading for the door, but he took no notice. How could he? When his Sirius stood before him, lashing out with anger and hatred and madness in his eyes. He needed his help, the soothing that his touch provided, just as Padfoot soothed the wolf on full moon's. He stepped closer, eyes never leaving Padfoot, focused only on him, the same way he had approached when Sirius was sixteen and sat with his knees drawn to his chest; disinherited, disowned and discredited.

Then, suddenly James stepped out of the crowd with a redhead by his side. Was that Arthur? Remus had no time to think; James was raising his wand at Sirius! As soon as he did, the boggart hesitated. This was a new face, a new fear. But was it worth releasing this face, this form that elicited so much delicious fear, for this one, so comparatively small? The boggart retained the Sirius-form for a moment longer and curved its thin, bitten lips into a snarl. Then, with a whirl, became a new evil; black robed and ragged figure took its place.

It was only then that Remus remembered; not James, Harry. The boy with Lily's eyes, whose greatest fear was the Dementor now floating before them, its rancid iniquity rolling off it in icy sheets. Time seem to freeze with them all standing there. Harry's anger was fading from his features and being replaced by fear.

Remus Lupin was back in his element.

Sirius, grey eyes twinkling with mischief, leans to kiss him soundly on the mouth and then traces the geature to brush his cheeks and eyes, his face growing sombre.

"I love you Moony" he says, for once in his life without a trace of a joke in his eyes.

Remus grabbed that memory before it could be tainted by betrayal and ruin and death and let it flow through him.

"_Expecto Patronum!" _

The chest locked tightly, Lupin turned to regard the badly shaken class.

"Class dismissed" he said softly, his eyes never leaving Harry's.


	2. To fear a Lion's death

Remus Lupin watched the class of third year students as they faced up and fought their wears fears. The mood was running high; a strangely addictive cocktail of fear, apprehension, hysteria and amusement. He watches the young Gryffindor girl being jostled to the front. She is a friend of Harry's, as he watches her with a grin and the red-head beside him (_another _Weasley?) looks pale and does not react.

She is very pretty, with her tangle of long brown curls and wide brown eyes, womanhood just discovering her young body. He thinks, with a wry half-smile, that Sirius would have found this one very entertaining in their schoolboy days. She was voraciously smart, with a fiery temperament and respected and accepted by her peers.

He notes the look she sends back towards the two boys behind her with a raised eyebrow. From his position it is impossible to tell whether or not she is looking specifically at Harry or his Weasley friend, but it is a look full of longing and typical teen angst.

Ah, so the brightest third year witch of the Hogwarts was falling, and falling hard, for one of her best friends. She suddenly looked back to the front and Lupin saw the shadow cross her face.

She knew what was about to take shape before her and she was resigned to the fate. It was the same weary expression he knew crossed his own face every time he stepped before this particular Dark creature, and it looked too aged to be on such a young face.

He waited.

The dark shape swirled into another in the face of this new being. It was a boy, gangly, awkward, his neck stooped slightly to hide his height. He wore a maroon jumper that clashed terribly with his brilliant red hair. There was sudden outcry; Remus looked at the students. They all looked shocked, amused, glancing between the witch and wizard laughing. Harry looked horrified, Weasley simply hurt.

Then there was a familiar green flash and a couple of people screamed. So too did the Ron-boggart. The body slammed into the cupboard from whence it came and slid down to a crumpled heap on the floor. Remus stood up straight, shocked.

Hermione's face was twisted in despair as the Ron-boggart rolled limply to its side and dead blue eyes stared back. As they watched, the face contorted and life flowed back in. It struggled to push itself up.

"Rid-" she forced out in a choked whisper, but her words were smothered as another brilliant green flash lit the room. The body was slammed against the wall again with a terrible cry. Nobody was laughing as Hermione shuddered and the Ron-boggart made a strangled sound of death. Remus Lupin was about to come to the young Gryffindor girl's aid when two boys pushed their way to the front.

"_Riddiculus!_" that voice commanded coldly, so much like James when he was mad that it sent shivers down Lupin's spine. The Ron-boggart did a back-flip and began to tap-dance. Badly. There were a few nervous titters, but no real laughter. All eyes were on the middle of the room.

Ron had his arms around her, the first girl not in his family that he'd ever touched in this way. Her head was tucked under his chin and he held her like he was never going to let her go.

Suddenly, Hermione pulled away and looked into his eyes. Ron's Adam's Apple jerked as he swallowed hard.

"I'm not going anywhere, you silly twat" he whispered to her. Remus raised an eyebrow; not exactly how the fairytale prince comforts his damsel-in-distress, but it worked a treat on the Gryffindor Princess. Her eyes widened and they both went a bit red...until Dean Thomas whistled.

Poor Weasley; the redness reached right up to his ears and he gave Thomas a through glare. Everyone laughed now, properly and midst the laughter, Harry met Ron's eyes and gave him a 'go _on_' head jerk. Before the class had fully recovered, Ron bent his head and quickly kissed Hermione's lips. As they parted, a cheer went up among the gathered Lions. Remus Lupin raised his finger's to his lips and whistled, grinning when a few students looked at him, shocked at this behaviour from a professor.

Once a Marauder, always a Marauder.

Suddenly, Lily Potter's eyes met Lupin's.

"I think Hermione wants to give it another go, sir" Harry said, glancing at his friend. She nodded, extracting herself from Ron, whose face was burning. Remus looked at her, with the wide grin she was trying desperately to contain, tear-stained face and bright eyes.

"Are you sure, miss Granger?"

She glanced back at Ron, and then to her Professor.

"Yes sir"


End file.
